


Seventy Flightless Birds

by CallMeClassified



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 06:04:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16320518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeClassified/pseuds/CallMeClassified
Summary: Now, of course, you have some questions. Questions I cannot answer. All I can tell you is this:The Banditos Don't Bury Their Dead. At least the un-bloodied dead. The stench of blood attracts vultures, after all.





	Seventy Flightless Birds

The calls for his bones.

That's all the boy heard as he struggled for breath underneath the scratchy sack hindering his vision and air supply. Something, possibly someone, was calling to the young boy; it wanted his pitiful bones as he bled out from the multiple wounds blazing up and down his body.

"That's quite enough." Hissed a voice curtly.

One more jerk to the boy's back sent him tumbling down, barely able to hear the rest of the conversation as the wound sharply pierced his skin and a black screen tumbled over his remaining scraps of sight.

"What will become of him?" Someone asks, frantic.

The two groups are positioned into their own teams of nine red and countless green. While the red are like cheetahs, merciless and cold, the green vultures were mere scavengers. They stared at the red-cloaked, pasty men as they tried to cover their wounds, panting. One Niner, a red-cloak, stepped forward. Hidden behind a veil of gray, his somber eyes were distorted. After examining the scene; the boy, the man, and the woman, all three dead, presumably. Blood stained the ground.

"It's a glorious gone," The Niner rasped. He leered at the gathered green mob, then strolled to the three motionless bodies. His face was hard and expressionless as he slipped the burlap sack off the small boy's head, and that's when he noticed the vultures irking him. They tilted their heads, eagerly awaiting a meal. The Niner shook his head angrily, and that's when the boy suddenly stirred.  
A green-jacket, a Bandito, struggled against the constraining Niners. He was tall, skinny, and middle-aged with bloodshot eyes. "He's alive! Please, we need to take him!"  
"You'll just beat him to smithereens and feed him to the vultures!" Growled the Niner with a voice like a blade grinding on stone. He gently picked up the child, who was surprisingly light and carried him to the snow-white mare he had arrived upon. Glaring at the gathered, wounded Banditos, he opened his mouth to speak.  
"This one. He's strong if he can survive falling down Trench. This child..he isn't a scavenger like the lot of you," The Niner spat his words like they were chlorine on his tongue. "Andre, Listo, Nills, get these Banditos out of my sight."  
He turned back to the child, who had just started to wake up. He narrowed his eyes indignantly as the child's flanks started grappling as his body took in the air. The child gasped shallowly, pupils retracting and dilating while they adjusted to the light.   
"Don't worry, you're safe," The Niner murmured, regret shredding his stomach. "The Banditos have done this, child. They murdered your mother and father, and they tried to kill you. Don't worry, the Niners saved you." He then smiled for the first time in as long as he could remember.

Today was a rather strange day, and the day I first encountered "Father N". It was crisp and cold outside, sending a sharp tingle down my butchered spine. The whole sun seemed to have turned its back on Dema, or so Father N said. The Banditos..they struck like lightning. They murdered my mother and father, who had once proudly worn the Bandito crest. I was left for dead, barely anything to keep the draining lifeblood inside my pitiful, skewered body. I didn't flinch as the leader came by me, or the entire mob of sage green blurs, like a pack of wolves. Out of the blur suddenly came him. About my age, it seemed. His face was almost completely hidden by the shadowing hood upon his head. I could just make out his face, a pale face like filthy porcelain. He was one of them. The Banditos. But he wasn't wearing the same expressionless masks the others had worn. He was looking straight at me, his mesmerizing crisp eyes were like honey-filled pockets of warm light and flaring with horror. I remembered what my Pa had said to me the day before when he and Mother caught word of the Banditos' whereabouts. "Don't let the Blurryface get you, Tyler. He will only force pain upon you." He'd suddenly given a sage-green trench coat to me, it's scratchy, wooly surface tickled my hands like the leaves of the tree in the center of the village. I'd looked up into my father's warm eyes and had felt tears of confusion blur my vision. "Father..why are you telling me this..?!" I'd whispered. Mother had walked over and laid her warm, soft hand on my face as I had cried onto her delicate fingers. As she planted a soft kiss on my forehead, she leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Do not fret my sweet sunflower."

The stomping of hooves and shouts of panic flooded my head, and I cracked my eyes open. My entire body stung with pain. What had happened..? Then I saw him. A looming figure sat over me, pressing a frigid cloth to my neck. His body was concealed by a bright red cloak that draped around his body like big blood-red curtains. His unusually pale face was distorted by the gray sheet that hung from his hood. "Ah, you have awoken." The hooded man's voice was deep and husky as if his throat was coated with a fine layer of ashes that tickled the interior of it. I didn't speak, as my throat had begun to sting and scorch with pain. "You may call me Nico, young one." He rumbled again. His tone was soft, but something about it didn't comfort me as the hooded man expected it to. It seemed..emotionless, as did everything else he said. "N..?" I gasped, feeling a sharp pain corrupt the rest of my planned dialogue, and I hacked pitifully and felt a warm drop of liquid dribble down my chin as I started to sob. He pressed his cold, black-tinted hand to my cheek and started whispering words to me, words I didn't understand. It wasn't comforting or warm, but it was sympathy. "Are you k-kinda like my father now..?" I forced, sniffling. I had barely even met this man, and he's already been so nice to me. He chortled deeply. It sent chills down my aching spine as if the rumbling sound ticked each and every one of the bony lumps upon it. "It appears so. What's your name?"   
I shuddered, voice cutting off suddenly.  
"T-Tyler.."

It seemed like the title 'Father N' just stuck with the two of us after that. Sure, I knew of his true name, Nico, but Father N just..felt right. Father N cared for me just as a parent would, but something felt different about his lifestyle. It felt like something was missing, like that one piece of the puzzle you will never complete.

"Tyler," Father N abruptly called my name. Disappointment flared in my stomach as I gazed longingly at Loner's Ridge, where the lone tree sat at the crest, supplying refreshing shade to any passerby, as long as the sun beamed down on Dema (which was rare, seeing as any light was seldom present here). "C-Coming..!" I responded as I gathered my belongings hastily. It's been nearly ten years since Father N first took me under his wing, I guess. Skillfully swinging my sack over my shoulder and bolting back down the hill, I watched the lush green hills of Dema blur in the corners of my eyes.   
"Good, you're back.." Father N slurred wistfully as if he was distracted about something. Whenever his eyes trail away, I get nervous. Father N says I get nervous quite a lot. I ruffled my disheveled hair, trying to keep my tensions flat. He must've noticed my sudden change of disposition because Father N blinked repeatedly and looked me in the eyes, which surprisingly calms me. "Sorry, just thinking about some things."   
"What kind of things?" I chirped, intrigued.  
"Things you're too young to know."   
I didn't respond.

Father N then distractedly appointed me to wander around the town square, which I hadn't done in a while. "Finally, some time to myself.." I breathed as I stepped out of the house and into the clearer town and down the misshapen pebble pathway. Wandering always cleared my mind, like spraying downpour upon the rooftops and cleansing them. Serene gray clouds floated aimlessly overhead as I set foot in the square. I instantly felt the entire formality shift the moment I set foot in the town square. It instantaneously seemed colder than it already was, not to mention darker. Everyone I met told me I seemed like the type of person to notice a change that others merely put off. At that exact moment, I knew what they meant.

"Hey," someone called to me. I turned around and ruffled my hair, as I always do when I'm nervous. The voice was quiet and warm, almost a rumble. "Where you headed?" They said again. "J-Just to the edge of t-town.." I stuttered honestly. I was rather unprepared for conversation, so it was a wonder I could actually say legible words. "Why do you ask..?"   
"Just askin'," The stranger responded huskily. "Y'heard the news, right?"  
"N-No, of course not!" I started, but my curiosity got the best of me, of course. "..What news?"

They laughed a raspy laugh. "The Banditos, sonny." Then the glowing, preeminent eyes suddenly faded away before I could even open my mouth. The words were stuck on the back of my tongue, but silent tears came out in exchange of words. I suddenly felt a sharp pain squeeze my heart, and I desperately wondered why..why was I like this??

Then I thought of my parents. Father N tried to make me forget but..their screams kept coming back to me.   
Everyone in town, I should point out, knew me as 'Nico's Boy' or 'The Tenth' (You see, I was due to be a bishop, Father N had said.) or then, worst of all, 'Goner'. You'd think someone the age of me would know what they meant by 'Goner', but I still don't.

A thud split the air behind me, and I whirled around. To my surprise, only an alleyway awaited me. A dark, ominous alleyway, of course. I heard scattered metallic pinging from there, and I thought at first it was just some stray looking for food. Then the pinging became less like accidental and more like..someone was trying to gain my attention? I looked around quickly. To my disappointment, this street, in particular, was left completely abandoned. I sighed. "Guess it's up to me.." I whispered, reaching into my sack and pulling out the dagger Father N always insisted I bring along. "I've trained you to defend yourself," he'd say. "Better have a weapon."

As I crept into the darkness, sharp blade in hand, it became more apparent that there was indeed a person. A shudder ran down my spine as I got closer and closer until...

Yellow. Two yellow, glowing eyes. Staring right at me. I ran as fast as I could but it seemed that this person knew this particular alleyway like the back of his hand. Before I knew it, hot breath was beating down my neck. He was close. I whirled around, fear turning to pulsing energy.

If a fight was what this one wanted, a fight he would get, even if I was beaten to nothing more than smithereens. 

Trying to remember all I'd learned, I twisted my body around and stabbed my dagger. Luckily, I heard flesh tearing and a pained and panicked moan erupt from my pursuer. But my opponent was strong, and before I knew it, he'd pushed me to a wall and held me there with surprising strength. I squinted, focusing on trying to breathe.   
"Be intimating. Be intimidating!" I told myself silently. "Don't let him know you're scared.."

"Who are you," I wheezed, relatively calm. "And WHAT do you WANT?!" The figure stayed completely silent, like a shadow skulking in a dark room. I winced my head back against the wall as the shadow continued to strangle me with unimaginable force.

Rather abruptly, flames ignited, and I saw him clearly. Rather burly, face hidden by the shadows of his hooded head. A yellow bandana concealed his mouth, and that's when I looked down and noticed the faded jade green apparel. "You're a BANDITO." I hissed. Rage flared through my head, and I thrust my knee hard in between his legs. His grip loosened instantaneously, to my delight, and I wriggled away. "HEY, WAIT!" He strained. He was still in pain, but I could already tell his voice was deep and rich, like smooth honey. He grasped his hand on my shoulder. "Do you have, like, SPIKES on your kneecap?! That huuurt.." I turned around and smirked. I guess the Bandito didn't get a good look at me before, because his eyes widened when he first saw my face. "Hey, I knew I recognized that adorable face! It's you!" He chuckled, and I could feel my cheeks singe as he spoke. "A-Adorable?!" I sputtered, noticing I was actually more embarrassed than mad. Nobody had ever remarked about my appearance before, especially Father N. I'd try to be formidable, and here this..Bandito was, calling me 'cute'! The raged feeling returned to my head immediately, and I went to slap him, but his reflexes were quick. He grabbed my arm, hard. I tried twisting it out of his grasp, but it was no use. I still wasn't ready to give up, but I'd have to pull some..maneuver to get away. An old escape trick Father N taught me flashed in my head, and I twisted my arm backward and jumped back. Out popped my arm, free to go, but I couldn't, for some odd reason. Or was it merely an instinct?

The Bandito looked rather amused, but I could tell he'd stumbled a bit. "Y-You're the BISHOP'S BOY! That's a BISHOP MOVE!" He said, sounding meek. (which was NOT what I expected. At all.) I recognized with a jolt that expression. I knew it from somewhere. I surfed through my memories, frantically trying to find where I'd seen it before. Realization gripped me harder than the Bandito had, and my eyes flew open.

"You're that Bandito kid. The only one who had some heart. I saw you." I rasped.

The Bandito, now gripped by his own sarcastic part he'd played upon the first encounter, scoffed. "Beats being a bishop's kid." He looked at me, I could easily tell he lacked mental strength, while his physical strength...

I studied the Bandito's rippling arms, muscular disposition, and gulped.

Let's just say his physical strength wasn't meager. I shook my head and fluffed my hair backward, as I always do when I'm upset or intimidated. He cleared his throat. "M-My name's Joshua. Josh, if you want." Seeing as his..'kind' was abhorred by the citizens of Dema, I took his identification for granted. "I'm not getting mushy," I hissed, looking away and studying the bleeding scrape on the back of my hand. "I'm classified." I didn't feel like getting acquainted to this..'Josh'. Josh snorted. "You're going to classify yourself soon." He turned away and saluted with two of his fingers. "See ya, cutie. And good luck." He then sprinted away before I could even remark to his flirty comment. "YOU'LL NEED IT!" He called, then he disappeared. I brushed my hair back repeatedly and hurriedly, trying to hide the anger and embarrassment bleeding through my skin. But something was also there, something other than hatred. Pride for myself? Pride for Father N for teaching me so well?  
..Pride for Josh?

I shook my head again. "Scum," I muttered. On the way through town, I couldn't stop thinking about him, and I was furious at myself for actually viewing a BANDITO, the group that killed my FAMILY, in a positive light. After a while, all I could think of was...

WOULD I need luck?

"Talking to myself is not a good quality.." I groaned to myself as I neared my house. I couldn't get Josh out of my head, scenarios swarming around my brain like ravenous vultures. Would I ever see Josh again? Or was this just a one-time thing? I'd noticed him before I noticed the other Banditos, but that didn't make him any different. When I walked inside, Father N was waiting for me, a smug frown hidden behind the opaque gray sheet sheltering his eyes. "Glad to see you're back TWO hours after you were supposed to." Father N grumbled. I finally noticed him clutching something with his hand, and I tried to squint through the darkness to find a basic outline or something. I grabbed a candle and took a step forward, holding the illuminated flicker of flames toward my guardian. The light kissed the air around Father N, me, and the article he was holding, encapsulating us in a soft, warm light. "What is that..?" I gulped, praying that Father N hadn't gone through my bags and confiscated my jumpsuit.

Nope, too late to prayer. Father N held the jade green trench-coat up to the candlelight, staring at me with his dull two obsidian-like eyes. Immediately my skin crawled along my entire body, and I tried to hide the fact I was breaking into a nervous, intimidated sweat. "You tell me." Father N rasped angrily. Oh boy, I thought. This is probably the worst I've seen him.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

Around 45 minutes of arguing filled the house, resulting in Father N 'postponing' me. He's like that, using fancy words for simple things. I'm nineteen, I can't be GROUNDED! I sat on my bed with my door locked, hatred for Banditos fluttering around my head like a little, panicked bird. "I hate them. I hate the Banditos. I despise them. They are a dirty kind." I repeated those words over and over up until the point I became light-headed. So light-headed, I couldn't think straight. No sensible thoughts plus anger, hatred, and my 'mental instability' (as your's truly called it) was not a good mix.

After examining my shaking, bleeding fingers one more time, I finally heard a bang on my window. I jumped and looked at the clock on my old dusty bureau. "It's five past four, idiot!" I called, looking out the window. To my surprise, I was greeted by...  
"Josh? What are you doing here?!" I sputtered, opening the window carefully. Luckily, my room wasn't up around farther from the ground, so it was rather easy to climb in without Father N catching me. The silvery-black night sky was perched above the Left Mountains, while white, speckled stars swam in the smooth, black curtain overhead. The mountain, normally a crisp-pine green, were almost a gray-green tonight. All happy-sad colors. Josh waved a greeting while I hid my hands behind my back, swinging slightly to and fro like a child half my age. "Hey again, Classified." Josh mused, looking around. "Nice place you got here."   
I snorted, the hot-head feeling flowing back to me. "It's fine, I guess," I responded bleaker than I expected the words to form. The slits stung like fire licking its way up my arms, leaving my bones as nothing but ashes. It was hard to hide the pain, but I told myself I would manage...

Josh, after looking around a bit, turned and peered at the burlap sack in the corner of my room. "What's that?" He asked. Sweat started pouring down my face again. "Oh, it's nothing, hehe!" I said, fluffing my hair back yet again. Josh narrowed his eyes. "You're nervous." Her remarked. "M-ME?! N-Nervous?" I stuttered, my hand froze on the top of my head. "You're insane! I'm just fine!"   
"I can tell," Josh shrugged. "I notice your habit. Y'know, of slicking your hair back?"

I froze again. "What are you talking about..?!" I responded weakly. "I'm perfectly fine, I'm.."

I gulped. Josh had pried open the bag. I bet he didn't know what was inside, but I sure did. I'd collected them and stashed them in there. Here he was, fumbling through it. "Careful..!" I said frantically. "You don't really want to know what's in there.."   
Josh merely scoffed. "Pah-lease." He rumbled. "I bet it's something..important." I leapt over to him and tried to pry the bag from his hands, but it was no use. "You're acting like a little kid, Josh..!" I staggered backward, weakly trying anyway to stop him from ransacking my supply of-

Josh blinked in confusion and slowly pulled a content out of the bag. It was a shiny, silver razor-blade. Pried off of a shop, or building, I don't exactly remember. Josh examined it slowly as if it were alive and one wrong twist would snap it back and attack the predator holding it delicately. A shrill shock ran through me as I realized which one he'd pulled out. "Oh god.." I muttered. Josh looked rather puzzled, and I met his gaze worriedly. "Why is there blood on the tip of i- ACK, THERE'S THE HAIR THING!" Josh pointed at me as I ruffled my hair excessively. I knew Josh was onto me as soon as he looked at my blood-stained sleeves and the crimson-tipped blade.

I inhaled deeply upon seeing Josh's horrified expression. He kept looking down at my arms, then back at my eyes, pupils shaking ever so slightly in fear. The malevolent pain still persisted, and I felt even more light-headed. Josh suddenly started contorting oddly, his face warping in and out of normality. Same with my entire bedroom, which looked like a rippling reflection in a busy stream. My breathing morphed into more of a wheeze, a cry for help. I didn't know want was going on. A single thought suddenly accounted itself.

Did I sever a vein?

"ClAsSiFiEd?!" Josh's voice sounded far-off by now as if he was calling from another place and time in this vast, wide world..

The black curtain lifted, returning me to my bedroom. I frowned. And I found myself speaking, but I didn't want to speak up. It was like another force was massaging my larynx and prying the words straight out of my throat. "I remember this as..a 'happy-sad' room. Why does it feel.." My not-voice hesitated, drifting into the air like collecting dust-fairies basking in the sunlit window's gentle embrace.   
"Just..plain sad?" Another voice answered. My not-voice (I assumed) turned around, eyes adjusting to the darkness. He was a tall creature, unpleasingly slim, as every rib was showing. His head was adorned with various horns, countless smaller ones and two large ones were nestled upon the sides of his black head. His eyes were a hazy sky-blue that melted my mind (at least it felt like..)  
My not-voice must have left because I could definitely feel the thousand-pound pressure in my throat had detached itself, and it was just me and this..

I looked at the dark black creature and noticed different shapes, all colored in neatly with what appeared to be white snow, black ink, and red blood. The colors seemed to pop off his face that way, but how come I didn't notice them before? I sporadically realized that the shapes are blurred dramatically, but the eyes are still clearer than my head at any given moment. I paused.

And this..'Blurry-face.'

Though it had seemed my feet were glued to the floor, they twisted me around to hide Blurryface from my sight. Now, all I saw was a chair, a rope, and a hook on the ceiling. "W-What am I doing here?" For once, I spoke freely. I could feel Blurryface's cold breath seep into my neck and his hand slink up my shoulder, like five little snakes. "There are many reasons." Blurryface's voice was like frost biting into my flesh as he breathed out his words. "Why don't you trust me, Tyler?" Blurryface said. A chill ran through my veins. I started assessing the situation as the blurred cryptid whispered, "Trust me" and "If you listen, your pain will be gone." Realization struck me with its brute force. Blurryface wants me to- "H-Hm?!"  
My feet started moving toward the chair. It was like I was spectating another person's actions from their point of view, but it was me. It was me who would feel everything. Blurryface watched with his empty eyes the color of a bleak sky as I distantly set up the chair and stretched the rope up to the hook. It was strange, yelling at myself to stop while I was physically staging my fate. Was any of this real? Was this really the end? My body turned to face Blurryface. His eyes were narrowed into dazed lake-like slits as the rope creaked dramatically and slipped itself around my neck. I was in tears by now, but it physically appeared like I was calm as ever, like I wasn't afraid. But I was. I felt like the noose was like a collar. It seemed like I belonged to the rope. "I don't want to! No! Please!" I gasped, frustrated by my pleads sounding more like a declarative statement. Blurryface merely stared blankly at me as my foot caught the edge and the chair toppled over.

Even though I had no control over anything I physically did, I could tell that whatever force was controlling me pushed over the chair on accident and sealed both of our fates. I struggled to breathe as my body twisted and tried to escape the choking force of the tightening rope. My noose groaned and creaked in response, as if to say "You belong to me, there's no escape. You must obey me."

I looked at Blurryface desperately, seeking help as my vision caved around me. I looked into his eyes as the last shuddery breath I could collect left my body. The last I saw of him was a wave goodbye.

"..çłæššïfïëd..?" Voices warped in one ear and out the other, like a moth that flies through a cartoon's head. "Classified!" I snapped my eyes open to see Josh standing over me. I could hear the frantic distress yelping in his head, it felt like. "C'mon, I can't have you snoozing on me!" He laughed nervously as if trying to up the demeanor vainly. "C-Classified..?" I moaned weakly. In my hazy silence, I didn't understand what was going on. It was like being underwater, everything was distorted by the ripple of the droplets swarming around time and space. "My name is Tyler, not Classified.."   
Josh ignored me. "Do you need help? I can maybe-"  
"I'm fine." I said, cutting him off and sitting up off the floor. My arms tingled, but pain refused to leech the strength out of them. I looked up at Josh, who released a giggle of relief and offered to help me stand up. I took his offer, surprised by the sincere warmth encapsulating the two of us. With Josh's help, I pushed myself up off the ground and close to Josh's face. I could feel his heated breath suffuse my aching face tenderly. I froze, and I finally understood what that 'hot-headed' feeling was as I looked into his golden-crested eyes.

Clamorous shouting interrupted the peaceful serenity, and we drew apart in a raw panic. "What was THAT?!" I yelped.  
"It sounds like..screaming." Josh ran to the window and opened it again. "Let's go, Classified." He stood beside the windowsill, one foot already out the window. I reluctantly walked over to the window and peered through it, the open air nipping my face. I wrinkled my nose as an acrid tang filled my nostrils. I knew that ashy pungency from somewhere. It reminded me of..flames, somehow. "Do you smell that?" I rasped, trying to cleanse my lungs of the bitter-scented air. Josh sampled the air as if he was consuming the scent. Then he froze.  
"Smoke."

"Smoke?" I sampled the air again. Sure enough, it smelled of burning wood. "Like in the alleyway.." I mused. Josh fidgeted anxiously as I peered out the window and saw a warm, dark glimmer rising from the town. "There's a fire," I remarked to Josh, trying to seem calm. "Someone set a fire."   
I squeezed my leg out the window, then edged the rest of my body out of the narrow opening. "Uh, Josh? Can you..try moving the window up a bit?"   
Creaking erupted from the window for a few seconds.  
"It's jammed," Josh called to me. Great. I thought, inhaling sharply to flatten myself out.

Finally, my feet touched the ground, and I pulled my head through the meager opening. I gagged. The smoke stench was much more robust than before. Which, I assumed, meant the fire was either stronger..  
I looked at the horizon, where I noticed the reddish-burnt orange flickers had grown more hostile, like the color of rage.  
Or closer.  
I looked back at the window to obverse Josh's progress. He was wedged uncomfortably halfway through the window. "Josh, I think I see the problem!" I noticed a rusty screw had been propping up the window. It looked like it had been lodged pretty snugly since it supported the window while we struggled through. I went to remove the screw, as it was trammeled, with struggle.

Just as I removed the screw, the window slammed down just as Josh hit the ground. My heart leaped at the sickening bang of the frame hitting the sill. "JOSH!" I ran to the muscular Bandito, who was brushing the dust off his jeans. "Hm?" Josh looked down at me in confusion. "Y-You didn't see?!" I stammered, taken off-guard. "T-The window came slamming down, a-and I could have crushed you!"   
Josh blinked, as if any fear he felt had splashed off his shoulders like raindrops. I shuddered. Josh had a way of being intimidating without even doing anything. "I-I mean," I cleared my throat and did my signature hair-ruffle. "You could have died, and.."   
Josh giggled. "Trust me, I'm fine." He smiled at me. "I'm known for my ability to come out of battles with only a few scratches. I'm lucky like that." He winked at me, and I blushed and half dragged-half led him towards the flames, ruffled by my panic being isolated. "And, of course, my ability to.." He smirked at me rather..charmingly. "Draw in all the chicks and du-"  
I elbowed him in the chest distractedly, eyes focused on the ground in front of me. "HEY!" Josh yelled. "I was KIDDI-"  
"SHH!" I shushed him aggressively, pressing myself against the wall beside me. "I think I hear something," I whispered. Sure enough, angry shrieks cut the air, as if they held knives and daggers. Josh, clearly sobered from his joking spurt, examined the clearing and pointed toward a long, thick shrub. I nodded and started counting down with my fingers.

As we slunk across the area towards our hiding spot, I could feel the heavy presence of fear. It weighed me down, my conscience also pressurized by the smoke-thickened air. Josh and I pressed together, both quite frightened by the sudden hostile shift. "Do you..Do you recognize anyone?" Josh murmured to me, eyes stuck on the people. I squinted through the thin film of smoke to see the dark silhouettes. "No..wait, they're speaking." I paused to hear the words one of the characters were stating as if I was watching performers on a stage.   
"P-Please..! I-I'm only t-trying to-"  
"Oh good God! You sound exactly like Chris and Kelly, Clancy!"   
I froze. The name Clancy sounded familiar. I'd sworn I heard it before. Josh and I exchanged nervous glances. Even though the crackle of the flames warped the strangers' voices, I could easily tell they were both male and that 'Clancy' sounded terrified. The other figure's voice was still unrecognizable.

"W-What about the boy?!"  
Clancy's voice faltered as he mentioned the said 'boy'. It seems like the other person had..hesitated upon the mention of the boy, too.  
"Clancy, Clancy, Clancy," The second one chuckled sadistically. "Such a worrier. I'll take care of him."  
Clancy seemed to have relaxed for a minute. A big gust of wind then came by, blowing the smoke away just enough to decipher the two people. One was extremely tall and skinny, while the other was short and stout. "Complete opposites.." I heard Josh mutter. The shorter one was collapsed on the ground, held down on the ground by the tall one.   
"After," The lanky man chortled. A chill ran down my spine. "Josh?" I whispered urgently. "I know who the tall one is.."   
That's the moment I noticed the tall one was holding a thin, razor-sharp spear made of ebony wood and steel. "After you RID DEMA OF THOSE FOUL BANDITOS!" I gasped upon remembering I'd donned my jumpsuit before leaving the house. Josh covered my mouth and pressed me and himself farther down in the green embrace of the shrubbery. My eyes were goggling in terror, and I could tell even Josh was at least a little mortified. "No matter what you do," Clancy rasped, determination under-toning his voice."I'll never betray them again. I won't stand beside you any longer, N-"

The spear plunged deep into Clancy's chest, and a squelching crack erupted from the newly-skewered corpse. I choked back a scream of horror. Josh grabbed my arm. "Classified, that's our cue." He said hurriedly, vainly trying to drag me backward. I refused to budge, pressing all my weight into the bottom of my body. I needed to avenge Clancy, I thought, fear creeping up my spine like a thousand little spiders. "Classified, let's GO!" He said angrily, tugging harder. "N-No.." I whispered, staring at the slim figure, who was now standing back in a relaxed manner. "Not yet."

At that moment, the scrawny killer stepped out from the shadows. He was much taller in person than embedded in shadows, and his skin was frightfully pale. The spear he clutched effortlessly was speckled with crimson blood, and his hands were a mix of red blood and black..paint? I shuddered. I knew who this was. And, assuming by the look on Josh's face, Josh knew too.

It was Father N.

My eyes flew open even wider upon seeing my guardian, whom I had trusted and respected, murder an innocent citizen. Rage pummeled at my stomach as Father N caught my eye, looking rather horrified. I froze, eyes locked with his. I could tell Josh was anxious to get away, as he was tugging my arm towards Loner's Ridge like the hill was a magnet attracting him. I suddenly snapped upon my eyes falling back to Clancy's butchered body. Twisting my arm the same way I had in the alleyway, I escaped Josh's grasp once more and bolted towards Father N.   
"YOU HEARTLESS MONSTER!" I bellowed, releasing all my negative energy into screaming at my guardian. "P-Please, I-"  
"Don't you try and tempt me to submission," I snarled, locking eyes with his once again. "You murdered Clancy!" By now, Nico met my eyes, panic flashing in his pupils. A sickening flare of pride iced my heart soothingly at the sorry sight of blood-drenched, petrified Nico. Trying to manage my anger, I edged closer to my former guardian and thrust my face uncomfortably close to his. I bet it was quite a sight: A diminutive, scrappy thing like me intimidating a tall, lanky specimen such as my guardian, Nico. "Give me a good reason to resist the urge to tear your throat out-"  
"Classified," Josh edged himself into the conversation and ever-so-carefully held onto my arm. "It's not a good idea to snap, it'll make you look just as bad as him and-"

"And WHAT, Josh?" I snapped at my friend, face burning with rage and the singe of the embers from the fire encroaching us. "AND WHAT, my own GUARDIAN will kill me?!" In my ireful shock, My mind was metaphorically in flames, completely contrary to Blurryface's mind-melting eyes. "Please," My guardian pleaded. "I was only doing it to save you! He's allied with the Banditos and-"

That's when Nico glimpsed my jumpsuit. He had just opened his mouth to speak when the relatively tranquil flames danced towards the three living people with a breathy roar and a crackle of burning wood. Josh frantically examined the conflagrant glade, searching for a way out, while I stared at Nico, shuddering through the flames at his cold, aghast eyes. "Classified, the flames are closing in on us, leave him!" Josh called to me, this time successfully guiding me away.  
My heart was in flames, but then it felt as if the flames suddenly went out. The sweltering rage was out, replaced my soft, sad fright. I was scared for myself, scared for Clancy, scared for Josh.  
But not scared for Father N. No, something now kept me from peeling my eyes to the hypnotic flames that foxtrotted around us, like a circle of fiery dancers drawing nearer and nearer for the final measures. Time was running out before the dance ended, taking us with it. I drew my gaze back to Nico, who was also trying to find a way out and inhaled the smoky air, choking back a cough. "I'm sorry, Father N," I began, starting to give in to Josh's frantic pulling on my arm. "Your head might be clear, but your heart needs to change.."

With that, I leaped towards Josh and bolted out of the ring of dancing fire, leaving Nico to choke himself to the slumber of death.   
"Do you..do you think Nico's really gone?" I rasped, shock slowly gripping my numbed body again. Josh shrugged, attempting to wheeze the ash out of his throat. "Pretty sure.." He looked at my jumpsuit, the jade-colored fabric still blazing through the soot-coating it now clung onto. "See that out there?" Josh pointed out towards the horizon, finger shaking. There were two pristine mountains, then a large, wide trench that jutted in between the two points deep into the ground. I squinted my eyes, trying to make out the exquisite details of the trench. "Isn't that...a trench?" I didn't know much about the trench, I only figured out the trench even existed a few seconds ago. I looked at Josh, who was facing the two mountains with the trench striking down the middle almost mathematically precisely. "Not just any trench," Josh breathed, staring out to the unknown. "That's Bandito Trench, where all the Banditos have taken refuge." I squinted through the foggy night to observe the trench. A moor sat vigil in front of it, the dispersed hills jutting out of the ground keeping watch while the trench sleeps the night away. "B-BANDITO Trench?" I uttered, feeling my heartbeat gradually start pacing irregularly. "B-But I was raised to think the Banditos are vile things! What if," I paused, meeting Josh's soft, comforting eyes. "What if they know Fathe- Nico raised me?" I stood there, panicking about the great unknown. Would the Banditos murder me like they killed my parents? Was Josh just luring me in? I felt a hand on my shoulder, my shoulder absorbing the warmth of Josh's hand.

"I won't let them know that." He rasped. "I'm the only one alive from that day who remembers it."

Together, we walked down Loner's Ridge, Josh with a torch, me with my pack,   
Both with confidence of a new start without the Niners.

"Here we are."  
We had arrived. Tall, leering cliffsides loomed over our head, lush green grass frosting the roofs of them, with undistinguishable yellow flowers dotted overhead. It appeared that we had shrunk down to the size of a bug, perhaps, and we sulked in the cracks of the earth beneath our feet. It was pretty exhilarating to look up into the light blue sky, but every time I did that, I thought about Blurryface, so I stopped looking up and started examining the ground.   
Green, brown, black, white, gray, b-yellow?  
"Yellow," I breathed as I saw those perky yellow flowers greeting Josh and I. Their heads' natural colors were drowned by black and brown splotches. Seeds, I thought. They had a tall, green stem that astounded me, as it was rather lanky and straight, though smaller ones still lined the edge of the wall. Then, their lush, profuse petals looked like bits of melted, golden sun that had caught on a tall, beautiful flower. The bisque, plump petals complimented the handsome verdant grass so nicely.   
"Josh?"  
"What's up, Classified?"  
I crouched down beside the flower, my stomach in knots from the knowledge that I was wasting Josh's time, and that we should be leaving.  
"What kind of flower is this?" I asked Josh, tilting my head to examine it from another angle. It seemed familiar somehow, but I couldn't put my finger on why..  
"Oh," Josh responded quickly upon deciphering what I'd been asking about. "That is a sunflower, a sign of peace and positivity for us Banditos."   
"Sunflower.." I rolled the name around my mouth for a bit. It sure did shine like the sun, I noted. The name suits it well. I picked it out of the ground delicately, whispering, "Sorry!" As the crisp, moist snap indicated it was out of the ground. I looked at its plentiful, plump roots and brushed the soil off the sunflower's long stem.   
"It's very beautiful."  
"The name suits it, huh?"  
"Mhm."  
We walked in silence for a while.  
Finally, after about 45 minutes of walking, Josh estimated, we had arrived to the Bandito's 'camp'. I clutched the sunflower tightly in one hand and ruffled my hair with the other. The jumpsuit I adorned was still very baggy so I tried not to drag my arms down to refrain from the sleeves of the trench-coat caking with mud.

That's when the Banditos came. They came slinking out of the shadows, like foxes hunting prey. Some came from nowhere seemingly, like vultures landing. Some were like cheetahs, swift as the wind. They were circling around us, whispering words I couldn't hear. I looked down at the sunflower again. It flooded my senses with peace, blocking my mind from hearing the hisses of the Banditos. It was blisteringly stuffy inside my jumpsuit, and I wanted to take it off so badly.   
"But I can't," I whispered. "I have to be strong, I have to be-"  
"Who's this?" The words circled around me, like a round of bullets being fired at my head. "What's he doing here?"   
Josh stepped in front of me protectively as I buried my face deeper into my saggy jumpsuit, feeling my hot breath circulate against my body. "Everyone," Josh began, motioning for the mob of curious green-blurs to back up a bit. (Thankfully, they did.) "I..I have a new member. His name is," Josh looked at me, and I angrily mouthed my name, praying that he wouldn't call me-  
"His name is Classified. He," Josh stammered, looking up to the sky as if he was looking for a lie to drop down on his face. "He saved me from The Niners."

Gasps of shock erupted from around us.  
"The Niners?!" I heard one inhale sharply in surprise.   
"That's impossible!" Another said. "Nothing beats Josh!"  
"Classified must be really tough.."   
"So Josh," A voice snarled. I looked up slowly and saw a slim Bandito. They seemed slightly elderly, but they still had this formidable demeanor, like he was the boss here. I shuddered, and the elderly Bandito continued on. "You're telling me this.." The Bandito examined me for a moment: fluffy brown hair, wide, dark eyes, and small, skinny build. I wasn't much to gander at, that's for sure. "Scrappy runt bested The Niners in battle...Hmm, very believable."

Rage kickstarted the hot blood in my ears, and I snarled up at the Bandito, who glared back down at me. "N-No, sir.." Josh stammered at the Bandito, hoping to avoid a big fight. "I'm afraid you don't want to mess with Classif-"  
"Why shouldn't I? He'd be good vulture food. I bet he can't even-"

I smacked my body into the Bandito's abdomen, pressing all my weight into that side of my body. The old Bandito choked, and threw me up. Blood was roaring in my ears like an enraged lion as I skidded in the grass, hand touching the scratchy tufts tearing up beneath my feet. Before I knew it, The Bandito came back at me, chucking me towards a cliff wall. Pain erupted in my back, knocking the wind out of me. I barely had time to breathe before I was seized by my throat, being strangled once again. I bit my lip. He was strong. Almost too strong..

I suddenly froze, my eyes wide as his grip loosened. I was just about ready to thrust my kneecap up, but he put me down, much to the surprise of Josh and disappointment to the other Banditos, who had been whooping and enjoying the fight. Silence gripped the trench as the older Bandito looked into my eyes. "It's you," he muttered. "You're Kenny and Chris's kid. The one who..who seemingly died."

I took some air in sharply, shock pulsing down my spine as everyone's expressions changed, one at a time. "You..thought I was dead?" I breathed. The scraps of competence I had left in my body had been blown away by the wind, it seemed, leaving me with nothing but slurred words. Josh was shuffling nervously, and it all hit me. Josh had said he was the only one left who remembered the attack, but apparently, the 'leader' did too. I bit my lip and fidgeted with my hands, threading my fingers in between each other. The breeze ruffled my hair for me as I examined the gathered Banditos, glaring through the glimmering, cold moonlight, filling Bandito Trench with happy-sad light, like liquid silver. "Well..I'm alive now.." I stammered. My heart was hammering against my ribcage as I looked up into the void-like sky. The old Bandito faced me. (He kneeled down, actually. If I remember correctly.) "I never properly introduced myself," he rasped. "I'm Jackknife."

Jackknife? I thought silently, trying not to project my confusion on my face. "Jackknife.." I tasted the name as I did with the sunflowers'. It was just strange..I guess. I was later introduced to the rest of the Banditos. Their names were a bit..bizarre, like Pebble, Carrad, Kitts, and Grave. (Along with numerous others, all with their own unique names.) So many Banditos, it took me forever to get them down!

Then there was, of course, Josh. With his wispy brown hair, his rich, sweet voice, his eyes..

His eyes were like golden-accented pools of sweet, silky honey. I could just drown in them..

"Classified?" Jackknife broke the tension abruptly, and I was seized out of Josh's honey-pool eyes and back by the bonfire, where two others sat beside Jackknife, Josh, and I. "H-Hm? Oh yeah, plan!"  
I felt my mind go blank as I looked over the assembled Banditos. "Umm.." I stuttered. I inhaled the smoky, gritty air that reminded me of a winter night, I don't know why. I looked down sharply, staring down at my feet. "I-I'll be back i-in a s-second," My voice vibrated in my throat, like when you try and speak on a bumpy road and your voice just jumbles around. "C-Carrad knows the p-plan."   
I then scrambled up from my seat and ran. Where? I didn't really know, but I knew I'd get there.

I settled down, back pressing to a tree, picking the petals off the sunflower I'd harvested back in the outskirts of Bandito Trench. How shriveled and broken it'd become, sitting in my front pocket for around two days. The sundrop-yellow had rotted into a..dead brown, the luminous green of the stem crushed. I sighed, crumbling the once lustrous, velvety petals in my hand that now felt like a defeated autumn leaf. Being alone always got me thinking. About basically..everything. As I sat in my own silent doubt, I became aware of my despondency, that feeling when your esophagus swells before you start crying, I noted as I sat with my sweaty back pressed against a tree. I somberly held the newly-bared sunflower in my hand and frowned. How defeated and sad it looked, when it was once so happy and beautiful. As I bathed myself in the knowledge of 'I am not okay', crackling leaves spoke behind me, declaring the arrival of someone. "Hey Classified."  
I gulped upon recognizing the honey-and-sugar-coated voice.   
"Hey, Josh," I responded, staring at the sunflower's remains.  
"What happened to the sunflower? It looks so.." Josh snapped his fingers as he faltered for words. I went back to examining my sunflower. It was still beautiful and brightly beaming even if it no longer bore sun-drop petals, as if it was singing, "Hello Tyler!" I sighed contently.

"Happy-sad?"  
"What?"  
"Happy-sad," I explained. "Like..when you're happy and sad at the same time."  
"Oh," Josh said, sitting down next to me. "I was thinking more of a melancholy."   
"Melancholy?"  
"Mhm."  
"I've never heard that word."  
"I've never heard happy-sad either."

As we lay there, chuckling, I notice how 'melancholy' I am. In fact, I could find a lot of things that remind me of that word that kind of melts on your tongue when you say it, melancholy..  
"Look," Josh quietly commanded as I laid down beside him. "Look at the stars."  
I looked up at that beautiful black star pool. It was freckled with stars, the kind of stars that made me think of little white people actually dwelled up there, like another home after they died. I inhaled sharply.   
"Are..Are my parents up there?" I asked warily, feeling saliferous tears crawl from my head and cloud my vision.   
"Oh, yeah," Josh responded, picking at a few blades of grass. "They're up there."  
Then there was silence for a while.  
"They'd be proud of you." Josh mused, his throat clearly tightening with grief. I sighed tacitly, feeling not grief but comfort wash over my body like an invisible, warm wave. "You think so? Even though I didn't think about them much..?" I shriveled a sob in my mouth. Would they even remember me if I didn't remember them? Sometimes, I doubted them. Other times, I simply detest their actions, even though my parents weren't a prevalent memory in my mind. I blinked the tears out of my eyes, bluntly staring up at the milky black sky and the glowing eye-like stars.   
Josh placed his hand over mine comfortingly. "Yes, Classified. I'm sure."  
"My name's Tyler, by the way. You don't have to call me Classified."  
Josh paused, staring up into the sky.  
"I know," he started slowly, as if careful to build his words up correctly, as if he didn't have any glue, representing confidence, to hold his words together. "I just like Classified better."   
"My name is kind of lame, though. Like something you would find in a cliche children's storybook."  
Josh chuckled at my words, a warm, lustrous chuckle that percolated through my veins, filling them with a sudden torridity that's near impossible to describe. I felt my face swell with happiness, and I cracked a smile at the sky. "Josh?" I questioned him quietly.  
"Hm?"   
"I don't feel melancholy anymore."   
"Oh," Josh said, silencing any emotion ringing in his voice. "Heh, I haven't felt melancholy even since I met you, Classified."   
I ignored the fact that he still refused to call me by my real name and smiled again, only this time towards Josh. "Josh?" I whispered, once again drowning in his soft honey eyes.   
"Thank you." That's when I leaned forward and-  
"CLASSIFIED! JOSH! COME QUICK!" Kitts's voice broke the silence, frantically screaming. "WE'VE BEEN AMBUSHED!"

I darted through the succulent forestry, Kitts at my heels and Josh taking the lead. Hot blood circulated through my ears as we ran down the hill and through the trench. My heart seared with panic as I heard fighting slice the air in the distance, and Josh wrinkled his nose in distaste. "They said they wanted Nico, correct?" He gasped, breath coming in wheezy intakes of air. It felt like I was being stoned with doubt and grief as Josh spoke, his honey-drop eyes alight in the most concerned way. "No," I groaned. "Nico's dead, he burned in the blaze.."

Kitts blinked hurriedly. "But why are they here?!"

I gulped.

"The Niners must've never been informed about it.." Josh slowly constructed his word choice again.

I leaped through the shrubbery, hand diving into my pack for some kind of weapon. Looking up, I saw war had split the night. Countless from both sides lay wounded on the crimson-stained grass, and I weaved my body past them to the heart of the battle. Piercing shouts crackled and fizzed throughout. Everywhere I looked, there was fighting. That's when I realized it wasn't just the Niners fighting us, no. The Banditos were almost outnumbered!

A heavy object struck my back, hurtling me to the ground, and I found myself constrained under the weight of an opponent. Anguish spurted through my body as a bold twinge plunged through my spine, rattling every bone. I frantically tried to grasp onto any air I could and scanned my surroundings for assistance. My chest seethed with agony as the unknown person stabbed it, narrowly missing a gap in my ribs. Frantic, I crumpled my legs to my chest and thrust them into my attacker, stunning them just enough for me to take control and get an advantage in the fight. It was just an average townsperson, upon speculation, a flightless bird. With surprising strength, I held them down with my foot, trying to douse the impulsive flares erupting from inside me screaming at me to pierce their heart with my dagger. I frowned, threading my fingers through my tangled hair indecisively; and removed my foot from their chest.

The townsperson stood up and ran, willing to cooperate with me, thankfully. I leered at them as they limped into the undergrowth. I whirled around, just in time to jerk my head out of the way of a blade, and glanced around. Josh was fighting two stronger townspeople, both male. Though Josh was slightly wounded, the other two looked rather frightened and blood-soaked. Swiftly, I ran over to help.  
It must have been amusing to see a tiny thing like me drive off two muscular people like them. (With help, of course..) By the time we'd forced them into retreating, Josh and I both had a couple of scars and gashes. Exhilaration surged through my veins. We were actually kind-of winning! I examined our surroundings again, Josh and I breathing heavily. Kitts and Carrad were taunting five opponents, darting from side to side and throwing blows, while Grave and another I knew to be Brendon were wrestling some others. There was no sign of Jackknife, though. I wiped the sweaty, diluted blood from my forehead upon realizing every Bandito, including Josh, had at least one bleeding wound. I could feel the warm, sticky liquid leaking out of my body, making me feel like an hourglass that was running out of time. Every 'grain of sand' I lost, I could hear the clock ticking down in my head, I think I was bleeding out.

A sickening scream cut our makeshift arena, and I looked over to see a sight that made my heart drop. A red-cloaked figure, slightly shorter than Nico (thankfully), hovered over Jackknife, the same black spear my former guardian carried stabbed into the older leader's cheek. Josh and I somehow yelped in unison as I recognized the Niner to be Keons from what Father N had described. "Sickening old man," I heard Keons wheeze. He had a nasally, squeaky voice, and I could see his throat was heavily bombarded. My heart ached for the first time in a while, thinking about Nico. Even after what he did, I still yearned for his approval. He could've been distant at times, but he still raised me.   
Turns out I had my loyalties wrong, I thought, staring at the destroyed face of Jackknife.  
Time seemed to slow to a stop as Josh and I bolted towards Keons, who was irking his victim joyously. It seemed the two of us were connected while we leaped through the frozen air like cheetahs ready to make the final kill, the Banditos posing as vultures anticipating when the feast began. In our frozen universe, we took flight, it was only us.

Then we fell.

"Plan?!"  
I was trying to clog the wound on Jackknife's face, while Josh had taken to tackling Keons to the ground with some struggle, as Keons was unexpectedly strong. Frowning, I examined the skewer mark. It perforated straight through his mouth, creating a two-inch hole in the side of his cheek that went straight through the other, not to mention straight through his tongue.   
"We don't do plans, Classified!" Josh strained, his only aspiration being to keep the sharp spear out of his flesh. "Great," I clenched my teeth, fluffing my hair back while the battle ensued around me.

A large flash crackled through the air, followed by a bass-like bang as lightning swiped from the sky, severing a tree from all it knew: its stump and rightful, rooted place in the ground. With dramatic moaning, the long, crackling log swooped down, aiming for Josh and Keons. My heart almost leaped out of my throat.   
"JOSH!"   
I squeezed my eyes shut as a thump rumbled the ground, spraying dust through the pungent air. By the time my surroundings had cleared, my ears rang discordantly, plinking around my skull like a harshly tuned ukulele. "Josh?!" I clenched my teeth, seething in horrible anguish and not caring when dust taunted my cuts. My heart sank as flames spurted up from the wood upon the dust clearing from it. My body throbbed in desperation as I stared into the wild flames, watching them lick their way up the tree. I wanted to run into the enthralling waves of flickering fingers of fire, but something told me to stay beside Jackknife. Smoke was coating the interior of my lungs, and I could feel Jackknife's breaths grow less and less noticeable while the Banditos (who had made sure the opposers had all retreated at the sign of the flames) attempted to put out the roaring blaze. Time seemed to slow as a few meager raindrops conveniently plummeted down like the sky was shedding grieving tears.   
Out of the amber dying flames, I could hear a deep, hoarse voice barking over the crackling flames.   
"..I'm letting you leave if you promise to never show your filthy face here again, you understand?"  
"Y-Yes," A trembling voice responded shrilly. "J-Just let me go!"  
A few minutes later, Josh emerged from the fading inferno, face caked with soot and serene eyes darkened with red irritation. After blinking the smoke out of his vision, Josh caught sight of me beside Jackknife and limped over. "Josh!" I yapped, relief distorting my senses. "Oh my god, why do you always almost di-"  
"We need to get Jackknife downwind of the smoke," Josh panted. He helped me lift the feeble leader, who left a trail of burgundy liquid as we half-dragged-half-carried him to a ditch. By the time we had him set down and Josh had ripped off a bit of his jumpsuit to serve as a bandage, Jackknife was starting to stir. I could see that my assumption was wrong, as his tongue was intact, but his lower jaw was twisted out of contortion.   
"There," Josh murmured, resting his burnt hand on my head. "He'll nee-"   
I wrapped my hands around Josh, hugging him tightly. Josh, startled, slowly hugged me back, and I felt safe from everything. Safe from the looming threat of the Niners, safe from flames, safe.

At least I thought I was.

"Claa..ssifi..ed.." Jackknife broke apart my name as if it was too hard to chew altogether. My head turned to look down at him, as I was carrying him back to camp. "Is something wrong?" I rasped, gentle and patient as I could sound. "Bring..back ditch..ple..ase.."   
I frowned, signaling for Josh to stop. Thankfully, he did, and I got time to talk to Jackknife.  
"Ssh," I murmured to my leader. Blood was dribbling down his jaw again, his eyes crusted with pain. I knew inside my heart that it was plausible he wouldn't survive without proper care, so getting to camp was the best bet.   
"Don't worry, Jackknife. It'll be oka-"  
"Please.." Jackknife feebly pleaded.  
I hesitated for a moment, exchanging glances with Josh, who reluctantly nodded in agreement. I frowned again. "Fine.."

The walk to the ditch didn't take very long, as we hadn't gotten very far in the first place. I set Jackknife back down and kneeled beside him, hands shaking. "Classified," Josh started, voice blank. When I didn't respond, he continued. "I'll go see how the fire is doin'. You'll be alright here, then?"   
"Mhm. Yeah."   
"Okay.."  
"Josh?"  
Hesitation.  
"Yeah?"  
I craned my head to face him, hand still keeping track of the rising and falling from Jackknife's flank.   
"..Please be careful. I don't know what I'd do if something ever happened to you.."   
Josh's eyes softened, now more like a glowing, nectar-like mist. He kneeled down beside me, enveloping my shoulders with his arm. I was grateful, as his warm arm melted every insecurity freezing up my mind.   
"I will, Classified," Josh breathed. Both of our heads were angled, so our foreheads and noses touched. I felt my breathing hesitate as our eyes met, cold, crisp brown and golden-crested honey colliding. "I'll make sure nothing happens to me or you."

I was alone with Jackknife for a while, and silence was present around every corner. "Classified?" Jackknife suddenly stirred again, his breaths feeble as he tried to move his twisted jaw. His body shook with pain with every breath, and his eyes were dark with anguish. My heart wrenched around in grief as I looked at the old leader, breath coming in short gasps. "Yes," I said briskly. "I'm here. I'm here, Jackknife."   
Jackknife chuckled. "Y'know Jackknife isn't my real name, right? It's Jack."  
"Shh," I hushed him brusquely, feeling worry creep into my spine. "Save your strength.."

Jackknife-err, Jack, chuckled again, this time hoarser than before.   
"I'm afraid I don't have much strength left, kid. But I'm not afraid of dying, it's just flyin' away, after all. Don't be afraid of it..The Banditos will go on without me.."  
Then his eyes went dark and his breathing slowed to a halt.

"Josh?" My voice was hoarse with grief when I came back to camp, the limp carcass of the former leader trailed in my arms, one little trickle of blood collecting at the bottom of his chin. It didn't seem like he was gone, but the sickening stillness of his heart declared it was true: Jackknife was gone.  
The Banditos dug the grave quickly, and I made sure to help as best as I could. There was no hesitation, there were no goodbyes, they just placed him inside. It was sad to see his once-muscular body lying limply in the bottom of the hole, jaw twisted in an unsettling way. My heart burned with rage. Even though I wasn't connected with Jackknife on a sentimental level, he was still strong, physically and mentally, if he could endure the worst pain: death. He knew what it was like to fly. I frowned. From my place on the big, jutting rock, I could look down on all of the Banditos, sixty-nine of them, if you don't count me. Just seventy birds who wouldn't know how to fly until their dying days. It was interesting, only one month with the Banditos and my mind was a little bit freer. I ruffled my hair as Josh came up beside me and nodded a greeting.  
"Hey."  
"Hey," I said brusquely, heart pumping grief-diluted blood through my veins upon watching the burial. Kitts, who I know was close to Jackknife, was placing something on the former leader's freshly-dug grave. I squinted through the sun to try and see, but the glare of the sun hindered recognition. "What's Kitts doing?" I questioned.  
Josh stared at Kitts by Jackknife's grave, all emotion blocked from his eyes. "If you want, you can tell a friend or family member if you want anything special on your grave when you go." He explained. I felt grief once again pierce my heart and bleed into it, as I had made a decision. I inhaled the air; it had cleared from the lightning bolt's ignition of the tree, the smell of smoke and blood had disbanded, now all I could smell was..peace. Peace in the air. I blinked in agreement to my own plan. "Sunflowers," I said simply.   
"Hm? Sunflowers?" Josh turned to me, confused. His rare golden eyes glinted in the light of the sun, making them glitter.   
"Sunflowers," I confirmed. "I'd like sunflowers on my grave."  
Josh hesitated again, looking away as if he was scared of my death. "Are you-"  
"No! No no no, I'm not going to die yet!" I laughed uneasily. He and I knew that we were not in control of when we took our dying breaths. We both chuckled for a while, then stared back at our group of flightless birds. I sighed. "Jackknife's not flightless anymore."  
"What?"  
"Oh," I stammered. "What I mean is he..he isn't flightless anymore, like..he's free."  
"So you're saying that he wasn't free as a Bandito?"  
"No, what I'm saying is he can metaphorically fly now!"  
"Oh."  
I sighed, chuckling again. It was good to at least have one friend when I had nothing in Dema.   
"I don't regret leaving, actually."  
"Oh? Leaving Dema, I assume you're referencing?"   
"Yeah. But I just..feel guilty about leaving Nico to burn to a crisp. I mean, he did raise me, after all."  
"Yeah, I guess you were close to him. Is he the closest thing to a father you remember?"  
"No, I still remember my parents, Josh." I huffed. "Do you remember yours?"  
Josh sniffed, avoiding my gaze. "No, I don't remember them. I was a Bandito since I was, like, two years old. Maybe less, I don't remember."  
"That's horrible." My voice cracked with guilt. "Did they take you from your parents?!"  
"No, no no! They didn't!" Josh reassured me. "They actually saved me, I think. They were gonna save you, y'know, when we were nine."  
Confusion bled into my stomach as we stood there. I tossed my hair and frowned, contradiction shaking me to and fro. "No," I growled. "They were trying to kill me!"   
"That's not true!" Josh argued. "They were actually-"  
"JOSH!" A buttery voice that I recognized as Brendon called for my friend. "GET DOWN HERE NOW!"  
Josh was quick to respond, but I was hesitant when I picked up waves of anger radiating off of Brendon's voice upon the mention of Josh's name. I followed reluctantly, worry taking my shoulders with its tapering claws as my tiny body jumped down rock by rock into the clearing.

I must've not heard the commotion, because when I got there, Josh was being held back, with his mouth covered. My mind was racing. What were they doing to him?! I wanted to run up to them and stab everyone who was rebelling against Josh, but I didn't know who did it. I was also wondering why they were doing this.  
"What's going on?!" I yowled, shock taking control. The non-rebelling and rebelling squadrons did not answer. My heart sank when I only saw Kitts and Grave in the non-defiant group, so that meant Carrad was-  
I found Carrad walking up to Josh, torch in hand. Her gaze looked like she didn't want to hold it, but-

Then it all came to me as I saw Brendon surveying the entire thing from the top of a rock. He was the mastermind of the plan. Anger surged through me as Josh struggled underneath the pressure of around twenty Banditos holding him still as flames licked closer to his face. I could see the pools of gold were wild with waves of fear, and I knew I had to do something. I snuck behind Brendon, dagger slinking out of my bag. The blood in my ears was roaring like a crazed lion, and my hands were trembling with wild exhilaration. I leaped up behind him, where he was at a disadvantage, and thrust him at the ground with a sheer level of logic, as I knew where the weak spots were and how to prod or pressurize them correctly. The Banditos clamored over each other as a surprised Brendon split the crowd in half, bringing Josh out. I conjured up some air, then yelled.  
"What the hell has become of us, trying to murder our own?!" I projected my voice so it rang across Bandito Trench. Everything went still as I leered at the gathered mob, my eyes alight with flames of untamed anger.   
Carrad, who was crumpled underneath Brendon's weight, panted and wheezed.   
"We needed to rid the Banditos of traitors!" She puffed, her silvery-blonde hair strewn across her face. "He murdered Jackknife!"

I felt my heart sinking as I leaped down on the rock (thankfully landing on Brendon) and running over to Josh. He looked a bit burnt, kind of like a marshmallow, but luckily not charred. "You okay?" I murmured quietly. Josh nodded in response, eyes aflare with horror. Brendon rose to the ground, still scowling in pain. "You IDIOT!" He screamed, clearly having a fit of anger. "He's a traitor, why save him?!" Brendon's face contorted into a snarl, like a toddler who didn't get what he wanted. I took a deep breath, knowing what I had to say. "He's not a traitor, Brendon. I'm the only traitor here," I began, voice shaking. Brendon glared at me, lips curled into a snarl. "How could you be a traitor if you supposedly died?!" I sighed, hearing Brendon's words as incredibly dim-witted. "I was raised by Nico. I was due to be a Niner, and I hated Banditos until I was nineteen years old!" I snapped towards the end, returning Brendon's glare. Silence hung Bandito Trench-like a noose as everyone deciphered what I was saying. I looked over at Josh, who's face was smudged into a disbelieving snarl. My heart sank when I saw his expression. Brendon scoffed, a smile returning to his face. "Josh, you let a Niner become one of us? And you lied to Jackknife?" His voice was mixed with a defiant giggle that made me sick to the stomach. Josh didn't meet Brendon's gaze, he just kept staring at me. I felt a shudder leave my body as I tried to catch my breath, even though I wasn't running out of oxygen. Tears filled my eyes as I looked at my friend, who came towards me slowly. I finally caught some air, but my heart stopped as I heard those words leave his mouth.   
"I'll never forgive you for this, Classified."  
Brendon laughed wildly upon seeing my expression falter. "Pathetic," he cackled. "THROW THEM IN THE SUICIDE TRENCH!"   
Suddenly, hands seize Josh and me, and we were hauled out of camp. I struggled in the sea of hands vainly, but it was no use, as I could see the Suicide Trench's yawning mouth plunge through the mob. Before I knew it, I was thrown to the ground, facing the trench's bottom. It was dark and frosty below, and I saw a large alcove gaping to the right. My heart dropped as a cool wave of worthlessness and self-hatred hit my face, making me want to struggle out of the Banditos' grasps and into the jaws of death. My eyes screamed when the frost bit them as we were held face first by the Banditos, who were awaiting Brendon's command to drop us. I closed my eyes, ready to say goodbye to the world, to my friends, to everything I've ever loved. I sighed a shivery breath, awaiting my doom, when-

"Excuse me, but I'm afraid I have a few words to say to all of you," I heard a familiar voice. "Including the really small one."   
The voice was raspy and dry like they inhaled air and exhaled smoke whenever they breathed. The air had begun to smell of smoke, too. I craned my neck backward to see the person, yelping quietly as my ear was nipped by frost. My heartbeat quickened upon seeing the tattered, charred-red cloak. Nills? No. Lisden? No. I went through the Niners in my head, sifting through each one.   
Maybe Andres because-No...  
Maybe Keons-Wait...

I froze upon seeing the pale face, black, sooty burns spiking up and down his face underneath the burnt veil., and the always-somber eyes and wistful eyebrows. I knew who it was immediately, even though his once thoughtful demeanor had shifted dramatically.

It was Father N. Father N never died.

I flinched as I was abruptly dropped from the mob of green at the feet of Nico. Shock still ebbed its way inside my body as I faced my former guardian, who reeked of smoke. I finally noticed his black spear had been sharped to an unimaginably thin, pointy tip. I gulped, feeling bile rise in my throat. "Oh, him." Nico had caught sight of Josh, who was struggling to not fall over the edge into the Suicide Trench. "Keons, Nills, make sure all those...Banditos get the hell away from 'Classified' over here." He mocked my nickname, oozing it out. Josh grappled and yelped as Nills and Keons hurled him onto the ground, seizing his arms. I winced again as Nico grabbed his staff and ran the sharp tip across my chest with a sharp swipe. I groaned in pain as I fell on my back, knees twisting backward painfully. I tried to stand, but Nico stabbed me again with the spear across my face, then a sharp bat across my back. My spine screeched in agony as blood spurted out of my nose and mouth, and pain ignited in my backbone. With a jolt, I remembered these moves. My vision flashed back to having my head stuck in a sack, head reeling with pain and confusion, being swiped right and left, not knowing who or what dealt what wounds. I suddenly knew the Banditos weren't to blame.

I jerked my hand up and caught the spear before it thrust me into the Suicide Trench, and spun my body around, tossing myself to the ground. Huffing for air, I looked up weakly at Nico, his face blurred from my eyes. Sprawled on the ground, my body was pouring out blood again, like when I was nine. It was all coming together for me, and I slipped into a flashback:

"Nico, it's only a kid!"  
"Be quiet, Jackknife, or this is what's going to happen to you!"  
The bag across the young boy's head hindered his vision as he lay on the ground, seething with pure agony. The world was closing in on him, and he couldn't hear the words of anyone. Before he knew it, he lay at the feet of his supposed attackers, all dressed in green. One little boy, also a Bandito, let out a sharp yelp of horror as the battered one before he rolled his eyes into the back of his head and slipped into a coma.

"I'm sorry, Tyler, but this is how it ends." Nico chortled his revolting, scary laugh. "In your words, my head might be clear, but my heart needs to change," My body shuddered as my life flashed before my eyes as I lay there, too weak to even lift my head off the ground. I was bleeding from my flank, chest, back, mouth, nose, head, anywhere I could think of. "I know you'll understand," he mused playfully. My life was flashing before my eyes as he came forward and pressed his foot on my bleeding side, oozing even more blood out of it. Giving up, I dropped my head to the ground and stared at Nico from above, all energy whisked away from me by the wind. My throat churned in anguish. This isn't how it's supposed to end, I pleaded in my head. "Nico," I croaked. "This isn't the end. Even if..if you kill me, I'll never be fully gone.." Nico looked taken aback by my words, because he backed up a bit, but returned his smug, burnt face back to a snarling tiger's growl. "You sound just like your father, Tyler. That's exactly what he said before I did this!"

Time seemed to slow down as Father N, my guardian who had loved me and cared for me and always made sure I was safe, thrust his spear closer and closer to my heart. I sighed, tilting my head back. If this was how I was going to die, then I guess I should let myself know what death's like.   
Death never came, but a scream did. "Classified! CLASSIFIED! TYLER, NO!"  
Before I knew it, Josh had leaped in front of me, just in time to get pierced in the chest. Nico, not wanting to show he was surprised, backed up to marvel his work. Some Niners protested as I hadn't been killed. "Don't fret, my comrades," Nico oozed. "Let's let our hero feel grief like I did."

I crawled over to Josh, who had been thrown upon contact with the spear. His golden eyes were large, honey orbs floating through squinted eyes. "J-Josh..w-why did you do this?!" I choked on my words upon seeing the wound, which stabbed right under his lung region. Tears ran down my face, their salty presence stinging my cuts, but I didn't care. Josh moved a shaky, blood-soaked hand up to my face, touching it tenderly and wiping the tears with his thumb, leaving a warm, bloody smear. "Ssh..don't cry, Classified..it's gonna be okay.."  
"Bu-But you said-" I struggled for words through my sobs as I stared with at my friend, who lay dying on the ground. "Y-You said you would never f-forgive me..!" Distraught, my heart pummeled around my chest, heartstrings tugging and turning. Josh merely chuckled. "You're an easy person to forgive, my friend. Easier than you think.." I placed my bloody hand on his cheek, stroking it gently. A heat tugged at my chest some more, a heat I couldn't describe. "Guess I'm not so lucky now, am I, Tyler?" Josh looked up at me with his cascading honey pools, still gorgeous even while the owner of them is bleeding out. I bit my lip, tears still running down my face. "Don't say that! You're gonna be okay, Josh. You're going to be okay, I promise you!" The heated feeling insisted, like in my old room, when I felt safe for the first time in ten years. I realized that feeling was pride. "I'm so very proud of you, Josh. So very proud."   
Josh cracked a bloody smile, and I could tell his strength was draining quicker than the blood left in his body. "So..happy-sad?"   
"Y-Yes, happy-sad, I guess. But why..sad?"  
Josh blinked at me, crunching upwards to get closer to my face, where he pressed his lips to my forehead. "Because I know I'm not going to be okay.."  
With a small sigh, Josh fell to the ground, those golden-crested honey pools that I revered so losing their positive, beautiful light as my only friend in the entire world closed his eyes for the very last time, and his breathing slowed to a stop.

"Josh? Josh, n-no.." I dug my face into his shoulder, pouring the rest of the tears out, those that had been boiling up inside me. I felt Father N's eyes boil onto my hair as if he was eagerly awaiting my doom. As I sobbed, it became more and more apparent that this was all Nico's fault, anything I've ever been through was because of him. All of my wounds burned with hot fire and seethed like spiders crawled in and out, in and out. My heart felt empty as if all the blood had been poured out of it as I locked eyes with my former guardian again from my place by Josh's body.  
I must have been weaker than I thought because shock kept me on the ground. Nico smirked at me, then turned around to acknowledge the horrified Banditos being held back by the rest of the Niners. "You see, fools. This is what happens when you leave me to die!"   
I didn't hear the rest of his words, as I finally pushed myself up off the ground, pity wringing my heart out. I bit my lip, feeling the blood on it soak into my mouth with a metallic tang. I crept closer to Nico, then rage took over. With a yowl, I leaped at him, just in time to see his horrified glance catch mine as I bowled him over.   
"YOU HEARTLESS MONSTER! I'M GOING TO RIP YOUR HEART OUT! HOW DARE YOU-"  
I cut off with a scream as the spear plunged into my side, around my abdomen. Pain erupted from the wound as blood spewed out, taking my strength with it. But I didn't give up. I grabbed onto the spear as tight as I could, thinking about my parents, about Clancy, about Jackknife, and about Josh. His bright honey eyes glowed in my mind as I strained to keep the spear from my body. I clenched my teeth as my strength slowly ebbed away, but I couldn't let go. I couldn't be a goner. I couldn't be a goner. Using all the strength left in my body, I swerved the spear around, so the sharp side now faced Nico's dark hearts. All the panic and anxiety hung in the air I breathed in, but strength did. At that moment, breathing in, I realized something. "Nico," I croaked, trying to sound strong. "It doesn't matter..doesn't matter how much luck you have..it doesn't matter on the battlefield if you're a goner or not.." I stopped to look into Nico's fearful eyes, a new energy pulsing through my veins, replacing the blood I'd lost. I held the choke back in my voice as I thought about Josh, laying a few feet behind me, body skewered and completely still. Adjusting my grip on the spear, hands shaking, I breathed in again. "It's just a matter of if your wings work or not."  
With a strong jerking motion, I plunged the spear deep into Nico's chest. Blood bubbled from the wound as Nico's pupils throbbed in pain, forever staring up at his glorified apprentice that he raised for ten years who'd just dealt the final blow. I closed my eyes, the image of what I'd done burnt into my head. Things are less scarier when all you see is your eyelids, as there's nothing to fear.   
When Nico finally went still, I leaned backward, balancing on the spear, waiting for satisfaction to flow over me, but it never came. I didn't even notice the rest of the attackers had fled. Somberly, I stared down at Nico's forever petrified eyes as the Banditos screamed for each other to 'check his pulse' and 'check if he's alive'. I knew they were talking about Josh, and that's where the satisfaction came from. It was only Brendon who really despised Josh, and I'm sure I'd proven myself worthy. I sighed, closing my eyes and falling into a coma.

I woke up a little while later, in one of the cloth triangular huts. Carrad kneeled over me, worry darkening her face and crinkling the skin above her nose. "What..Where am I?" I slurred my words like they melted off my tongue. "You fainted," Carrad replied. "From blood loss."  
"Oh."  
"Yeah, Nico got you."  
"Yeah," I echoed.  
There was silence between the two of us.  
"Where's Josh?" My voice sounded distant, like droplets dripping onto a cave's floor. A hole in my heart burned with furious flames as I thought about my friend. Carrad's face turned somber upon the mention of Josh.   
"He's not doing so well."  
"He's s-still alive?!" I choked.  
"No, we don't think he is."   
The world slowed to a stop around me. Josh..dead? It just didn't make sense. I sat up off the floor, drawing in breath as I ran my hand through my hair. "Classified, I'm sorr-"  
"N-No no no, it's not your fault." I purled tactility, throat compressing in my distraught state. "Nothing is anyone's fault, I'm fine. We're all fine, we're all fine."   
Carrad's face clenched in pity. "Get some rest, you're in shock." She murmured to me, tranquility surrounding us. "Everything's going to be fine."   
I'm sorry to say Carrad was wrong.

Cold air billowed my face as I walked down the path towards the Suicide Trench, remembering a tale Josh had told me, about how someone was thrown in here and they survived the fall but didn't make it much longer because..  
I took a shuddery breath.  
Because they committed suicide.   
The pack around my shoulders containing my tools weighed me down, but I kept going, as it was just like life weighing you down. It would be lighter and heavier at points, but only those who are strong can carry on, unlike me, who dropped my pack on the ground to gather my things; to get ready. The feeling of worthlessness, though, was higher in this..melancholy ravine than the pack on my back.

"Melancholy.." I whispered the word, watching it flow out of my mouth on my hot breath. Melancholy. A sad word. Why does it make me a bit happier when I say it? I hesitated for a second, looking up at the sky. Blue. A sad color. Normally, I'd see it as a positive, peppy color. I shook my head, shaking some frigid tears down with it. They glimmered in the sunlight, melting the dark highlights from them. How come the sun couldn't hit my back? As I neared the cave I'd seen upon my near-plummet down here, I slowed to a shuddering halt. Why did it feel..warmer inside? Why did I want to go inside so badly? I'd gone down here to freeze, to be forgotten, but warmth tempted me inside. Taking a quiet breath, I ruffled my frosty hair and stepped inside the yawning mouth of the cave.  
Darkness greeted me the moment I stepped foot in the cave. A torch clung to the wall, revealing a barrel. A barrel? I blinked in confusion and took the torch. The wood was cold and splintery, like..I shivered, some thing I couldn't describe properly. Gripping it tightly, I moved the flames up, until they caught the breeze and swept away in the cold, feathered breeze.

But I'd seen enough: over the barrel hung a noose. An empty noose. The noose I'd need. A little black bird was perched on the barrel, wings folded neatly over its sides. I frowned. Why wasn't it flying away, where it could be free? Tenderly slipping my hands underneath it, I scooped it up and let it fly away, wind soaring under its perfect wings. I bit my bottom lip. "Go," I whispered, climbing onto the barrel. "I'm going to fly, too." Slipping the scratchy noose around my neck, I was immediately brought back to my dream of Blurryface, where everything was out of my control. But now, as I stood on the barrel, rope around my neck, I felt at peace, knowing I'd be seeing Josh soon. My mind was finally clear, clearer than Blurryface's cloudless-sky eyes, I'd assume. I took the sunflower out of my pocket, the fresh one I had gathered on my way here. It was as beautiful as the first time I'd seen it. "I'm sorry.." I apologized to the sunflower, stroking its feathery golden petals, the petals I would never see again. "I'm just a..a flightless bird, but aren't we all?" I looked down at my hands; my defective wings that never let me fly, and ran my fingers through my soft, knotted hair one last time. As I moved my foot towards the edge of the wooden surface I stood on, I realized what flying truly meant. As the climax comes to a sharp halt, plummeting towards the resolution, you had to let go in order to spread your wings and fly without fear. It's like migration, leaving everything you ever knew behind. I didn't want to do it, but I know I have to be strong. It's time I picked my battle, and I'm sure this was mine.  
I took the last breath, the breath of a goner, and tipped over the barrel, a smile on my face as I exhaled and finally let go. I didn't try fighting for breath, knowing that the moment I opened my eyes again, Josh would be there to greet me.

I blinked open my eyes to blistering sunlight. My side was engulfed in flames as I sat up off the ground, completely isolated. I heard a commotion outside and limped over to the gathered Banditos. Outside seemed colder, like iced grass in winter. I tilted my head as he overheard terrified clamoring. I gulped upon the realization: They were peering into the Suicide Trench.

I bolted over, ignoring my wound's screeches of agony. "What happened?!" I croaked, shock taking my voice from me.

Brendon looked at me with guilty, miserable eyes. "I-I shouldn't have said those things..I shouldn't have.." He was groaning, churning his words out like a broken, creaky accordion. "What? What do you mean?" I breathed my confusion into the chilly air, watching it cloud up. I looked into the Suicide Trench, feeling a shiver run up his spine. There was a bag down there, Classified's bag. My heart dropped. Ignoring the contradicting screams of the Banditos overhead, I ran down into the Suicide Trench and was instantaneously whipped by an oppressive, wintry puff of wind. Pressing on, I tried calling out his name until my throat was hoarse, no response. I finally had to resort to forcing my way into the cave, where a little bit of light leaked into. An even icier breeze hit me when I entered the cave, and a shudder went down my spine. I was aware of a creaking ambiance as if a weighted something was swaying in the frigid breeze. Squinting my eyes and letting the light shine behind me, I yearned to identify that something.

A loud sob escaped my mouth, dropping me to my knees as I identified that something: large, frosty-brown eyes, fluffy brown hair, tiny little body..slumped over on a noose. Sobbing uncontrollably, I took his small, crumpled form down from its strangler, cradling the body in my arms like a child. I looked down into Classified's defeated form, into his dusky brown eyes that would never spark mischievously again and bit my lip to hold back from crying out loud as tears melted down my face. "This is all my fault, Classified." I whimpered. "I'm so sorry.."

"I-Is that Classified?!"   
"It can't be!"  
"I-Is he really dead?!"   
"Oh my God.."  
"Josh, I'm so sorry.."  
"Classified?"  
"No," I corrected, cradling my friend in my arms, his left hand dangling down. "His name..His name's Tyler."

The burial was minor and uneventful for everyone except me, who watered the grass with my tears as I watched my closest friend get prepared to be lowered into the dirt, sunflower still clutched between his purple-tinged fingers. My heart shriveled as I knelt down beside him and gave him the tightest hug I could. "I'll never forget you Tyler," I murmured soft words in his ear as if he could hear it and be sympathized. "I promise you, you will always have a place in my heart."

I looked at the small, cracked tombstone, grief pulling my heart into tiny, irreplaceable pieces as I read the tombstone:

Tyler R. Joseph  
(Classified)

Classified. It hurt what was left of my heart to read that word, as it brought back every memory I had of Tyler. I blinked the tears out of my eyes. "Hey, Tyler." I croaked, clutching the beautiful little things behind my back. "I-I got you sunflowers, just as you wanted!" I tried to sound enthusiastic, as it brought joy to think about my close friend being jovial. I sighed, kneeling down and tenderly placing the beautiful, vibrant flowers across the bed of his grave. The dirt was still fresh, so my hands were brown with little crumbly bits of soil. It was good to sit there and feel Tyler's presence, but it still stung, like salt inside an open wound. "Tyler.." I started, feel the words dry up in my throat. "Why? Why did you leave me? Did..Did I do something wrong?" I wordlessly emptied my tears onto the fresh dirt, closing my eyes. "Should I join you in your flight? No, No no no. You wouldn't want that, dear friend. You'd want me to..go on. If I can't fly, you'd want me to use the Earth as my tool, whilst you would need to take the sky. It's not my battle to fly, it's yours. And you fought it well, my brave buddy." My voice faltered as I delicately ran my hands along the headstone's surface, tracing each little crack; each little flaw. "I'm so, so proud of you, Tyler. So so proud of you. I hope we meet again. For now," I closed my eyes, feeling my brain metaphorically part into two halves. "For now, I'll fall into a dream."   
Falling..  
Falling..  
Falling..

Josh?"

The two children; little girl and little boy, approached the hunched figure. He wasn't himself, or at least the Josh that they were accustomed to. His vibrant eyes were dull and darkened with shadows of insomnia, his lips chapped and faded.

"Isabelle? Dan? Is something wrong?"

The little girl exchanged a pitiful glance with her brother as Josh turned around. His top half was bare, revealing a muscular structure and multiple scars, one being a jagged stab wound around his left pec (which, of course, Dan and Isabelle didn't notice.)

"Who is Classified? I heard someone mention that name." Dan, the little boy around eleven years old, mentioned.

Isabelle, 13, could see pain creep into Josh's eyes as he abruptly looked towards the ground, staring at his jeans.

It was a few seconds, minutes, hours, nobody was exactly sure, until Josh responded, his voice low.

Agony plugged Josh's head and Tyler's voice seeped through, flooding his brain at a fast pace like water. Backtrack of every encounter he had with his friend he hadn't talked of for close to 2 and a half years now.

"I'm not getting mushy. My name's Classified."

"Well," Josh began, meeting the two children's eyes with his own dull orbs. "For a start, his name's actually Tyler,"

The name circulated around his head, grinding a knife against the side of it as it made its slow, routine circle around his butchered brain.

"Tyler was a legend."

"Legend's a strong word," Dan teased, sticking out his tongue and making Isabelle giggle.

Josh cracked a smile, too. "It's the right word. He was always good with words, making up adjectives for formerly indescribable things or feelings."

"Happy-sad, like when your happy and sad at the same time."

"Oh." Isabelle and Dan said in unison.

"He was one of those classic ones," Josh murmured, hoping he wouldn't go off on a tangent about his friend, as tears were already filling his eyes and threatening to slip out of his eyes. He looked up at the sun that supervised the three people as the world turned, while spectating everyone else on the planet "Has anyone told you two about Nico and the Niners?"

When the two nodded, anxiety creeping into their gazes at the mention of the red cloaked people, Josh continued.

"Tyler was raised by Nico because he was orphaned by the Niners themselves, but Nico lied to him and told him it was the Banditos who killed his parents. Then," Josh's eyes brimmed with fear, as he knew where the story was going. "Then Nico came back and tried to kill Tyler for leaving him to burn in a big blaze." Josh's voice was quavering as he told the two children Classified's tale.

"Nico beat him this way and that, slicing him up with his spear."

"That's a little harsh," Dan cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, but it made Tyler realize that he was wrong about us. At that moment, when he was about to give up, someone sacrificed themselves for him, and he could finally finish Nico, once and for all."

"Classic?" Isabelle snorted, earning a laugh from Dan.  
"He sounds pretty awesome!" Dan chirped.

Josh's eyes darted over Isabelle, cold-brown hair, splintering brittle eyes, lips contorted into a small, thin pout as they rested, blistering, stubborn attitude at times. His heart twinged in grief upon the resemblance Tyler and this young girl shared.

Isabelle and Dan exchanged another look, this time excited and fearful.  
"Will..Will the Niners come back?" Dan quavered, voice steadily gaining a thick coat of fear.

"Oh, heavens no!" Josh laughed uneasily upon seeing them relax instantaneously. "Tyler scared them off and sent them running for the hills! Besides, you're safe here."

"Josh, can we meet Tyler? He sounds epic! Plus, he's a hero, and Dan and I probably wouldn't be alive if he didn't save us all! Please?"

Josh bit his tongue, hesitating for a moment. He pondered wether or not he should lie about his friend's doleful demise-he left the city and never came back or something along those lines-or just spare them the details of what really happened.

He didn't choose the options he gave to himself, and steadied his breath.

"I'm afraid you can't."

"What? Why not?"

Josh inhaled slowly, meeting the two children's crestfallen gazes.

"He's dead, I'm sorry."

"What?! How? Why?" Dan was full of questions, while Isabelle was frozen with a distraught, shocked look upon her face.

"Long ago, an innocent citizen was thrown down in a trench, about ten miles east from here, and slightly deeper and smaller," Josh continued, breathless. "Well, he did not want to die, as he was a clear-headed person. But there was a thing down there, it made him go insane and..and he bled himself out onto the stones. Since then, anyone who entered the newly-named Suicide Trench has never returned. Well, unless they returned dead. Bodies would show up, clearly strangled or drowned or shot, all by themselves."

Dan, clearly traumatized, gasped, making Josh feel a pang of sharp regret. Should he not have told the children? He looked over at Isabelle, who was looking off into the distance with her hard eyes, like crisp brown ice. She too looked disturbed, but to a lower extent.

"What does that have to do with anything?"   
Isabelle asked, trying to hide the tremor in her voice.

"Tyler went into the Suicide Trench. He hung himself in a cave down there," Images and snippets of being in the cave, the sudden pressing frigidity in the air, the sprint back up into the ground and the Banditos.   
"C-Cold," Josh moaned suddenly, voice cracking in grief and tears rolling down his face as he hid his cheeks in his hands.  
"I-It was s-so cold.."

Dan glared at Isabelle, who looked hurt about forcing Josh's break down.

"Josh?" Isabelle asked, placing her hand on his shoulder. "H-How do you know all this?"

Josh kept his face buried in his head, revealing the stab wound on his chest.

"I was there. I was the one who sacrificed myself for him, and I was the entire reason he went down there, into the Suicide Trench."

**Author's Note:**

> Now, of course, you have some questions. Questions I cannot answer. All I can tell you is this:
> 
> The Banditos Don't Bury Their Dead. At least the un-bloodied dead. The stench of blood attracts vultures, after all.


End file.
